


Filly to a Stallion

by hearts_blood, rivendellrose



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Bisexual Male Character, F/M, First Time, Inheritance, Loki Has Issues, Loki's Kids, Mother-Son Relationship, Oblivious Thor, Odin's Bad Parenting, Parent Frigga, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-30
Updated: 2013-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-27 14:02:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/662815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hearts_blood/pseuds/hearts_blood, https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivendellrose/pseuds/rivendellrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frigga's concern for her son leads her to a momentous decision.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Filly to a Stallion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [not_rude_ginger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/not_rude_ginger/gifts).



> Written for the prompt "Broken weapon [Loki/Sigyn - their first sexual experience together]."

_When patterns are broken, new worlds emerge. – Tuli Kupferberg_

In distant years before, Frigga had held him and sung to him while he slept fitfully. He was such a tiny, unhealthy-looking little thing in the first days after Odin brought him back in secret, wrapped in furs and hidden among the baggage of war. Even as an infant, he was nothing like their natural son, Thor, who was a loudly squalling, energetic mass of pink and gold, waving his tiny fists almost from the moment he was born. Loki was sallow, dark, silent. Particularly silent, that was the strangest part of his nature as they grew. Perhaps all Jotunn infants were naturally quiet, Frigga thought - she had no idea what they were like, after all. But what it meant was that while boisterous little Thor raced around and made the maids and ladies laugh at his attempts at manly behavior, Loki watched, patient and thoughtful.

Perhaps, when Thor insisted that he wanted to go out and watch the older boys at their rough play, Frigga should have insisted they both go. Perhaps she should not have allowed Loki to stay with her. But the smaller, quieter boy had none of his brother's longing for roughhousing and combat, and his green eyes were so bright when she offered to show him something that even the smallest person could use against the mighty and prevail. Frigga sat her adopted son on her knee and whispered the words of the charm as she drew the runes in the air with her fingers, and a ball of warm light appeared in the space between them. She pulled her fingers out, like drawing the fibers of wool while spinning, and the light expanded. With another gesture, the light transformed itself into the shape of a horse, galloping across the air with its tail flown high like a banner.

Loki clapped his little hands and laughed, and how could she have refused when he begged to be shown how to do it himself? He would never be mighty in battle like his brother, Frigga feared, but at least with _seidr_ on his tongue and at his fingertips, he would not be without his own means to glory. And it was a noble means, she told herself--perhaps some muttered that it was unmanly, that the practice of magic should be left to women, that had not stopped Odin Allfather in his pursuits of wisdom, and if it was good enough for her husband the lord of Asgard, it was good enough for their son, too. So she showed him that trick, and many others besides over the years of his youth, and was proud when he picked up the skill quickly and easily.

In later days, she would wonder if she should not have worried a little at _how_ quickly he picked it all up. Something in that scrawny little body seemed hungry for knowledge, hungry specifically for magic, and if she had stopped to think perhaps it would have occurred to her that teaching these secrets to a Jotunn boy might be different from teaching them to an _Asynja_ daughter, particularly one who shared Odin's blood as well as her own.

But that did not occur to her until much later. Not until Loki and Thor were both grown, and the chasm between them, tempered with friendship, seemed to have grown deeper with every passing season. Not until Loki had made such trouble with his magic that Tyr that the god of single combat had several times threatened him in response to his pranks. Loki was protected somewhat by his position, and more by his magic, but Frigga was left wondering how long that would last.

As a small child, Loki had always been the quiet one, of the two sons of Odin. While Thor raced all over the halls and courtyards attracting attention with his rambunctious behavior and starting fights with boys much bigger than him, Loki was the one most likely to be found in the libraries, poring over some musty old spell-book. He was thoughtful, intellectual... and perhaps Frigga should have known it would not last forever. She should have imagined that the little boy who sat on her knee while she taught him little charms and runes and bits of _seidr_ would eventually realize that it did him no favors among the other boys of Asgard to be seen behaving in a way that they could claim was home-loving and maidenish. 

She should have known especially when the flowering of youth's growth spurts brought the height of a young oak tree, but left him also as thin as any sapling. A mother who paid attention, she realized later, would have known that only trouble could come to her clever young son from that.

And so it did. Sometime around his third century, Frigga found her younger son was getting into trouble. It started small at first - little practical jokes, snide remarks and sarcasm. Nothing that a boy wouldn't test with as he learned to be a man, Frigga reassured herself. He was just trying to grow up. But as time went on, it grew worse - insults leveled at high and low, anyone who happened to wander into his view. Jokes that went too far to be funny to anyone but Loki. Challenges that caused him trouble with the older and stronger Aesir.

She tried to talk to him, tried to convince him that he was making no friends with his jests, but he scoffed and ignored her. "I must find my own way. No one will respect me if I don't fight back and show my strength. And since I am not Thor--since I have no strength of arms to protect me--I must show that my tongue is as sharp as his sword." He turned a green glare on her, sharp and bitter as hemlock. "Little tricks of magic will not always protect me, and I am no maid. I am a man."

"I know," she said, though she wanted to say ‘not yet.'

So he went on. She spoke with Odin, and, on her advice, he brought Loki along on some of his journeys into the Otherworlds. He brought Thor also, sometimes, but even when his brother was along it was a chance for Loki to show off for his father, to try and prove to him that he was more than just a boy. And after a time, it worked. After a particularly long and hard journey, Frigga's husband and sons came home laughing and boasting, all of them, and Loki's bright green eyes were filled with light that evening at the welcoming feast, as Odin, proud as any father in any world, told the story of how Loki had made himself nearly so sick as to explode in an eating contest against devouring flame itself. Odin held both boys' shoulders as they left the feast that night, and looked proudly from one to the other before sighing. "Every good man should have such sons to make him, and remember him when he is gone," he said, and Frigga smiled to see both boys stand tall under their father's praise.

Not long after, war came with the Vanir, and Loki and Thor both went to the battlefields with Odin. She never learned quite what happened there, but she suspected that jealousy haunted Loki's heart again, for he was once again full of mischief and attempts to better his brother, and, poor luck to all of Asgard, soon after the peace had been made the younger prince made his worst mistake yet. As they tried to rebuild the walls that the Vanir forces had destroyed, a great workman came with his horse, and demanded fair Freyja and the sun and the moon as his payment if he could finish the walls in time. Loki voted to accept his offer, and proposed a clever plan to ensure the workman's failure in the compact, so that no reward need be given.

This, too, Frigga should have seen as something to worry about from the start. Something about the workman should have caused her to worry. She should have counseled Odin not to listen to his young son, but no, she was too proud of him, too conscious of the way his young vanity would be wounded if his father denied him, so she instead urged the Allfather to accept the plan. She was not alone--many were excited at the idea of getting the work without the payment. But she held herself responsible. As lady of the hall, she should have known better. Instead, when all went wrong, it was Loki who took the fall and Loki who an angry Odin ordered to fix matters, since his overweening arrogance had set the disaster in motion.

Loki solved the problem, and with it lost still more of his pride. He came home months later leading a strange but beautiful beast, a colt with eight legs, fastest ever known in all the worlds that hung in the boughs of the great tree... and everyone in Asgard knew how he had come by the creature. The other women gave her sympathetic looks and patted her shoulder, and reminded her that she had another son, a handsome and bold and courageous one who had never done something so embarrassing as to run off, transform himself, and play the filly to a stallion.

Frigga silenced the women with a glare and swept out of the banquet hall.

Loki's rooms were empty, as was the library. When she found him, he perched on a bale of hay in the stables, stroking the fine, dappled grey coat of Sleipnir and scratching between the beast's well-shaped ears.

"He is a fine creature," Frigga commented, holding out a lump of sweet crystallized honey that Sleipnir took with a mouth of soft velvet.

Loki looked up at her. "Are you not going to scold me for my shame?"

"Is there shame in bearing a child? I have certainly never been told so."

"No shame for a woman. But there surely is for a man, if you listen out there."

"If you listen out there, you will hear a great deal of drunken idiocy. The more ale men swallow, the less they are the masters of their own minds."

"And what do you say? And Father?"

"I cannot say what your father thinks," Frigga admitted. "But I think it is no shame to bear a beautiful, healthy child."

Loki snorted--a horse-like sound, and Frigga wondered for a moment if perhaps he was entirely over his transformation yet, especially when he shook his long black hair along with it. "Even if the child is a horse?"

"He is a beautiful horse, and a bold one, and fast as the wind, I have heard."

"He is that." Loki stroked the creature's neck, and even the anger and shame in his face could not entirely hide the loving way his eyes lingered on his son. Frigga stopped herself, surprised, but... yes, Sleipnir was Loki's son. And, thus, her grandson. Her first, in fact. She gave a soft, surprised laugh, and leaned forward to touch the soft fur as well.

"I have some advice for you, my son, if you will listen," she said softly.

"What is it?"

"Care less what others think of you. Think more on whether you can be proud of yourself, in your own heart."

It was Loki's turn to laugh, then. "That is not the advice of a queen," he told her.

"No. It is the advice of a mother who wishes her son to be happy." She lifted her gaze from Sleipnir to Loki, and caught his sharp chin in her fingers to make him look at her. " _Are_ you happy, my son?"

Loki tried to smile, but it came out lop-sided, and then trembled as tears gathered in his eyes. Sleipnir whickered softly, and Frigga stepped the horse, gathered Loki in her arms and pulled the high head down to her shoulder as his body shook with the tears he was too proud to shed openly.

"They are saying that it was intentional," he choked. "That I made up the plan with the idea in mind that it would fail. That I wanted to humiliate you and Father."

"We know that is not true."

"But I still failed. Father trusted me, and--"

"All fail sometimes. No man's wisdom is perfect."

"Father--"

"Not even your father's, king and Allfather though he is," Frigga interrupted with a wry smile. "Though he will tell you otherwise, I am his wife and queen. I assure you, your father is _not_ always right."

"But Thor--"

"What? Thor is wrong all the time, much as I love him!"

"Yes, but Thor is strong and bold, and-and no one expects him to be wise! What need does he have of wisdom?! Whereas I--"

"You are as wise as any man of your age can expect to be. Wisdom is not always for the young." She pressed a kiss into his tousled black hair. "Come inside, Loki. You have had a very long few months, and I know from experience how exhausting the first few months of parenthood can be. Come in to supper."

The mention of food was always a good way to distract Loki, and when he was seated at the table he devoured all that was set in front of him. By the time the meal was over even Thor was impressed. "Living as a mare and eating naught but grass seems to have sat ill with you, brother!" he teased, pitching a hunk of bread at Loki's head. Loki caught it without seeming to move and placidly mopped the juice from his plate. "You must be sure to choose an animal with teeth next time you plan a ruse for this--perhaps you'll bring back a little of wolf pups to guard Father's throne, eh?" 

Clumsy as it was, Thor's jest was truly well-intentioned and Loki brushed it off with a laugh. Less well-intentioned was Odin's talk of taking Sleipnir out on a line the next day and beginning to break him to for the saddle. Loki nodded at all the right places and spoke knowledgably of horses, but his mother saw the hurt hidden in his eyes, and the expression stayed with her for days.

"It is a horse," Odin replied to the mild admonition she finally made. "A beautiful, swift, and intelligent horse, to be sure. But an animal, nonetheless."

Frigga clamped her lips shut and did not respond. The lord and lady of Asgard walked through the formal gardens, taking a few moments of peace together among the spring blossoms, but neither found much respite for their thoughts, and Frigga continued to ponder the problem of her younger son. "Loki's methods leave much to be desired," Odin said after a time, "but his results are undeniable, even if he did end up making a fool of himself." And by extension, went the unspoken addendum, his father. "He does well when left to his own devices. But Thor..." The king growled. "He will be a fine king, if he lives to sit on the throne."

A cold shiver ran down Frigga's spine. "I've thought the same thing," she admitted quietly. "He is... very like you once were. He delights in battle too much. His last adventure in Svartalheim..." She trailed off, not liking to think of the risks her son had taken in the pursuit of excitement and glory. 

"It is good for a king to understand the intimacies of war."

It was not war that Thor was waging, Frigga wanted to say, only a boy's follies. The realities of war were beyond Thor's ken, and she hoped that they would remain that way. Before she could say so, Odin had continued. "Proud as I am to have a warrior for my heir, I know that there may come a day when Thor does not return from his adventures. And there is no one, born in wedlock or out of it, to take his place."

"There is Loki." That she had to make that plain to her husband said much about Odin's feelings towards their adopted son. 

"He isn't ready for that, Frigga."

"Neither is Thor!"

"Loki is not ready for the burden of knowledge that being king of Asgard would mean--for him," Odin added darkly. "His birthright lies elsewhere, and I would make peace with that truth before I put the weight of Asgard upon such shoulders as his."

"If you believe Loki is not ready to hear the truth of his birth," said Frigga, a touch distantly, "how can you think that Thor is ready to be king at all?"

"Put them together and they would make one excellent king. Strong, clever, cunning, and wise. But separately? Neither of them is ready for the burden. If Thor should die without an heir, then the throne would pass to my nephew Tyr--and I cannot say honestly that I am easy in my mind about that." He let out the familiar sigh of a frustrated parent."Perhaps now is the time to begin thinking of marriage for Thor. He is a fine figure of a youth; it should not be too difficult for you to find a willing wife for him..."

But Frigga shook her head. "Thor is handsome and well-liked, but he is also wild and hot-headed, as you yourself have just complained. Traits that sit ill on a king will sit ill on a husband, and marriage will be the ruin of nearly any man, if he is forced into it without careful consideration." She tapped her fingernails thoughtfully on the table. "If I had to chose, I think I would do better to arrange a marriage for Loki."

"And who would have him now?" Odin snorted, a sound comprised of disgust and fondness in equal parts. "Everyone in Asgard knows the outcome of his trick. Grateful as Freyja was to be spared a marriage to the giant, she has not been silent about how Loki saved her from it. Prince Loki, the lover of one horse and the mother of another." Frigga winced, and thought ill things at the Vanir lady. "Other rumors about Loki have been brought to my ears, of how he sports with men and women with equal eagerness. And now with animals. Rocks and trees will no doubt be next."

"Do you believe such rumors, husband?"

Odin gave her a sidelong glance. "It may be in his blood," he said quietly. By which he meant, as always, that Loki was Asgardian only by upbringing, and that his Jotunnn blood, long kept secret from him, was manifesting itself in strange ways. "Better this outlet than others, and such slanders are the birthright of all princes, but tales of that sort bode ill towards finding him a wife." Frigga laughed softly. "Do I amuse you?"

"Tales of a very different sort reached my ears in the days when we were courting. That you were a reckless and unfaithful wanderer, poorly-suited to any woman who wished for a comfortable life." She stretched up on her toes to kiss Odin's cheek. "For all his tricks and mischief, Loki is a fine boy, studious and mature, and more admired than he realizes, especially by the ladies of the court. And we both know that he is uneasy in Thor's shadow and spoiling for responsibility, for respect. Give him a chance to earn it, even if only in this small way." The lady of Asgard fixed her lord with a slight, sly smile. "Then too, if Thor sees that his king finds Loki ready for the roles of husband and father before his heir, it may quietly convince Thor that it is time to mend his own wandering and carousing ways."

The Allfather considered this suggestion for a time. "Your counsel is wise, Frigga, as always," he said at last, "even if, as always, it favors our second son over our first one."

"Naturally," replied Frigga quietly. "Someone has to."

Odin's eye darkened. "So. What young maid had you in mind for Loki's bride?"

"Sigyn, Sjofn's daughter." Gentle Sjofn had been one of Frigga's handmaidens since her own marriage to Odin Borrson, and her daughter had been raised in the court since birth. "She knows what is expected of a prince's wife, and knows the foibles and follies of both our sons, intimately." Odin raised an eyebrow; Frigga merely smiled. "Not that intimately, my lord. Sigyn is gentle and patient and forbearing, traits which have a great deal of weight with Loki. And I see in this pretty young woman a core of thin steel that will serve her well no matter who she marries." 

Odin turned the matter over and gave his consent. Sjofn was less certain. "My lady, your son is... such an odd young man," she said carefully. "And my daughter is such a solitary creature; I had not thought to wed her to any man yet."

Frigga smiled gently; she felt the lopsidedness of the expression. "Loki is odd only when compared to his brother. Thor is the epitome of Aesir manliness, but my younger boy has his fine qualities as well. And he is a solitary creature in his own right, as your Sigyn has reason to know. They have been in and out of one another's company since childhood. They will understand one another."

Sjofn looked down at the spinning in her hands. "I will not command her in this," she said at last. "My daughter is wise for her young years. We will let her decide." 

A servant was sent to fetch the girl from her embroidery. When she came, Sjofn rose and clasped her daughter's hand. "My sweet girl," she smiled tremulously, touching Sigyn's soft golden hair. The girl's large, mild gray eyes gazed back at her mother with perplexity. "The queen has a question to put to you," Sjofn said, stepping back. 

Sigyn stood before the queen respectfully. She was clad in a dress of pale blue wool, simple and fine, embroidered by her own hand. Her blond hair was loose, held back from her face by a circle of plain silver. Frigga smiled fondly at the young woman, whom she had known since birth, and said quietly what she had to say.

The girl's eyes went wide. She paled, and then flushed a very pretty shade of pink and dropped her eyes to the floor. Her slim hands toyed with the spindle at her belt. "I would be honored to accept the prince's hand," she said shyly.

Her mother started. "Sigyn, you do not have to decide now. If you wish to consider--"

"No, Mother. I know my own mind," said Sigyn, with the gentle firmness that had first made Frigga think of her as a potential daughter-in-law, and a renewed pink tinge on her cheekbones that made the queen wonder if Sigyn had indeed thought of Loki before now.

"It is a good wife who knows her own mind before her marriage," said Frigga, taking the girl's hand warmly. "The Allfather and I welcome you to our family."

Loki was understandably shocked when his father told him he was to wed, and his eyes immediately went to Frigga for confirmation of what he no doubt assumed was some sort of mistake. "Marriage, I... why, Father?"

"Because it's high time one of my sons took a wife," said Odin, a smile on his lips but a very serious glint in his eye. "We have found you a fine bride--Sigyn, daughter of your mother's handmaiden Sjofn. A very worthy girl."

"I know her, of course, but..." Loki swallowed and glanced at his mother again. She smiled as comfortingly as she could, but Loki still looked as though he had been struck. "Surely as the heir, Thor should be the one to marry first."

"Thor is not ready for marriage. You are." Odin's quiet voice nevertheless made itself heard in all corners of the family's private chambers. "I am asking you, Loki, as my father once asked me when he announced I was to marry your mother, to do your duty to Asgard, and guard the succession of the line of kings. I need you to do this, for your family and your kingdom." 

Pale with astonishment as he was, Loki still seemed to glow with solemn pride at his father's words, and he fought to keep back the undignified smile of pure delight that tugged at his lips.

"I am counting on you, my son." Odin gripped his tall son's slender shoulder. "This, I cannot depend upon Thor for."

At that, Loki seemed to grow even taller. "I am proud to do my duty to my king, and my family." 

After Odin had taken his leave, Frigga held her son while he had a mild panic attack. "No one is going to force you," she chided, stroking his hair.

"No! No, it's not... Father is depending on me. I will do my duty. But I... oh." Loki dropped his head into his hand, and his throat worked as he struggled for words. "After everything that's happened... after all the _things_ that people have been saying... Mother, what kind of woman would want me as a husband?"

He did not bother to deny any of the rumors that swirled around his name; it had been a long time since he had used his silver tongue to spin pretty lies to his mother's face. "What do you think of your prospective bride?" she asked, seemingly ignoring his question.

Loki shrugged. "I know her slightly. She was a playmate when we were children, we've danced together at parties. That's all."

"She is a pretty girl, is she not?"

"Oh, very." Her son's bright grin convinced her of that. "I've admired her from afar, but I've never thought much of her beyond that--marriage has been far from my mind until today. And," he added, with a bit of a blush, "she is not the sort of woman a man thinks to, well, dally with."

That admission pleased Frigga immensely, and she leaned over and kissed Loki's forehead. "Rather than asking what woman would want you as a husband, little one, better to ask what you can do to be the husband that your future wife deserves."

Thor was practically beside himself with laughter at the news. "Think of it! My studious stripling of a brother being tied down to a wife! Especially after you've had such a wide and varied experience of so many..."

"Perhaps it is my wide and varied experiences that convinced Father that I was ready for a wife of his choosing," said Loki mildly over his mead, "as he does seem to have rather passed you over in this matter."

That quieted Thor quickly enough.

The wedding date was set for a month hence, and in the meantime the two young people were encouraged to spend time together, to test the waters of a relationship that did not quite exist yet. For the first few days, they kept to the gardens and to the library, places that both Sigyn and Loki were familiar and comfortable with. Though they had not been much in close company in recent years, they had known one another since early childhood and had interests and memories in common. Soon they found a rhythm to their daily encounters, and they began to cautiously open depths to each other that, before, would have been off-limits.

Lady Sigyn stroked the fine soft nose of the strange beast as he crunched the apple she had brought as a peace offering. "He is beautiful," she marveled. The horse whinnied his thanks, while Loki tried not to let his pride show too much. "And Sleipnir is truly your son?"

The prince nodded. "An unexpected side effect of my ruse," he said, a bit stiffly. "But not an altogether unpleasant one. I have endured many taunts for his sake--and for having borne him rather than gotten him. I think if I was his father, then that would be easier for the Aesir to bear. But I am Sleipnir's dam. I cannot change that. Nor," he added forcefully, "do I regret it."

It was a strange thing to have to divulge to one's intended. Stranger still for Loki's tone and carriage; Sigyn could see plainly that he spoke the truth: that he loved his son as fiercely as any mother would, and that he did not look back on the colt's conception as a mistake. Her gray eyes darkened thoughtfully as she gazed at the man who would be her husband.

"Is this a taste of yours, my prince?" she asked gently. "To... play the filly to a stallion?"

Loki, stroking Sleipnir's long mane, did not answer right away. The warm, richly-appointed stable was quiet and still, save for the sound of his son happily munching his apples. "And if it is?" Loki said at last.

Sigyn stepped even closer to him and, slowly, slid her hand over his, curling her slim fingers around his lean ones. "Then it is right that I know. I cannot deny you your lies and your tricks, Loki, but secrets like this I will not stand for. A wife ought to know such things about her husband."

He lifted his green eyes, wide in his pale face, to gaze at her forlornly. "Your husband... You still wish to marry me?"

"...Yes, Loki," she said, very softly. "So long as you wish to marry me. I know it is the express wish of your good mother, but if I am... not to your liking..."

"Oh," he sighed, his warm breath caressing her check like a summer wind. "You are very much to my liking, my lady." With the sure touch of one accustomed to delicate enchantments, he cupped her face in his hand. "And far be it from me to deny my dear mother anything she might ask of me..." Loki bent and pressed his forehead to Sigyn's. Their noses touched, and Sigyn could just taste the heat of his mouth beyond his lips, so close to hers. She squeezed his hand reassuringly, never breaking his gaze. "I would have you as my wife," Loki said, his voice a little hoarse and a little velvety. "But I cannot change my desires."

Very, very gently, Sigyn brushed her lips across his. Loki froze. "Then I shall simply have to learn about them," she smiled, "so that I may keep your interest firmly in my bed, lest you go looking elsewhere for your pleasures."

He stared at her for a long while, though in suspicion or disbelief, Sigyn wasn't sure. Then he brought her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles. "If it's your intent to learn," he said, a smile curling across his face, his green eyes sparking fire, "then there's no time like the present for your first lesson."

Loki drew her away from the horse and out of the stall, towards a pile of clean hay, and was in the midst of conjuring a blanket to cover them when Sigyn kissed him hungrily.

Sleipnir nickered in tolerant amusement of his dam's behavior, and then politely averted his eyes.

It was late at night, some few months later, when Thor and his friends returned to his father's hall after another adventure, but the fires were still burning and the feasting had yet to die away. The Aesir toasted their triumphant return, but Thor was quick to note that his younger brother was not among the company. 

"Probably enjoying the charms of his new wife," said Sif irritably, when the absence was pointed out to her.

Thor could not help but grin; he knew full well that Sif's bad humor at Loki and Sigyn was _not_ out of jealousy. Indeed, if Sif would have had her way, it was Loki who would have been the recent bride, and probably to the most boorish and drunkardly old man she could find. She would never forgive Loki for the trick he had played upon her, going to her bed and making off with her golden hair as well as her favors. Sif's hair was dark as Loki's now; as yet she had found no charm to undo the trickster's spell, and Thor could never help but tease her about it. "Do you begrudge my brother his pleasures, then?"

" _Nay_ , though I do pity your new sister for having to suffer through them."

Thor wisely decided against replying to that; instead, he grabbed a pitcher of mead off a passing maid's tray and filling both their cups to the brim. He was disposed to approve of Sigyn, Loki's new bride, for though the match had been made for them and the marriage taken care of before Loki had been given much time to think about it, Sigyn seemed a clever, fine-spirited maiden who was more than able to bear with the sorcerer's strange ways and stranger humors.

Not that Thor had seen much of Sigyn _or_ Loki since the wedding. When he was not away with Sif and the Warriors Three, he was wandering the Allfather's hall in a vain search for his brother, but Loki was always hidden away 'becoming acquainted' with his new bride, and mighty Thor had to admit, he felt just the tiniest bit slighted by Loki's lack of interest in him. Their friendship had been strained of late, though truthfully, _everyone's_ friendship with Loki had been strained of late, but Thor truly missed the days when he could have a friend at his right hand and his brother on his left as they rode into battle. 

Indeed, he had tried to convince Loki to come on this quest just past with them, but he had coolly refused, and when Thor complained, said some highly uncomplimentary things to his departing back as well, for which the god of thunder had yet to give a return volley for. 

As Thor Odinson was a man of action, he would not let it be said that he missed an opportunity when it presented itself. 

He drained off his mead and strode from the feasting hall. Sif, who was busy with her drink and her men, barely missed him. Thor took that in stride. Banquets, after all, were common, but the chance to get the better of his trickster brother came all too rarely.

With broad strides he made his way unchallenged through his father's hall until he came to the wing where Loki had been given a suite of rooms to share with his bride. Grinning, Thor deadened his footsteps as though he was stalking an enemy in the forest. It would not do to let Loki know the game too quickly.

Gently, he listened at the door. He heard nothing save the occasional crackling of a log. Still, it _was_ very late; no doubt Loki and Sigyn had already worn one another out and retired to sleep. It never ceased to amaze Thor that his skinny little brother could have such appetites for food and women, or the stamina for either pursuit, though Thor would not deign to examine if Loki could put his own efforts in that line to shame...

Plotting to roust his brother out of his bed and apologize to Sigyn later, Thor eased the great door open and inched into the front room... and stopped.

All was in darkness, save for a low fire that cast a dim orange circle of light upon two figures, seated together on a couch set before the hearth. Sigyn, clad in a nightdress, asleep with her hands folded protectively over her stomach, and her head pillowed on Loki's shoulder. Her face was a little drawn, as though she had spent many sleepless nights before finally finding rest. Loki's arms were wrapped loosely around his wife, and his legs were sprawled towards the embers. He looked more comfortable and more at ease than Thor could ever recall seeing him look before--and, when Loki finally lifted his eyes to Thor's face, he seemed utterly unsurprised to see Thor there.

He calmly raised a finger to his lips, then settled his arms more securely around Sigyn's sleeping form. His hands came to rest over hers as they lay on her belly, and Loki leveled a gaze at Thor that was almost smug. 

Thor smiled widely at the thought of another nephew, and then withdrew. His plan of annoying his little brother would have to wait for another night.


End file.
